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Girls Night Out

The other night I was invited out for a night with the girls.
I told my husband that I would be home by midnight: "I promise!"
Well, the hours passed and the champagne was going down way too easy. Around 3 am, drunk as a skunk, I headed for home.
Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times.
Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times.
I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him 12:00. He didn't seem disturbed at all. Whew, I thought, got away with that one!
Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock."
When I asked him why, he said, "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, 'oh, shit,' cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the cat and farted."